


a dent in the wall (pull me apart, piece me back together)

by vancouverbby



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00 line in college, Alternate Universe - College/University, Boyfriends, College AU, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kisses, M/M, Metaphors, Swearing, Violence, markhyuck, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vancouverbby/pseuds/vancouverbby
Summary: it’s always there, weighted with ugly significance, but donghyuck is trying to let the wounds heal. then comes mark, with his deep eyes and precious smile, to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 303





	a dent in the wall (pull me apart, piece me back together)

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be two pages long but it turned into a nine pager instead. whoops
> 
> enjoy(:

There was a dent in the wall. 

The gauge ran deep, white drywall peeking through, flaked paint peeling at the edges of it. An ugly contrast to the beige around it. 

Donghyuck used to stare at it. 

He’d stare at it from his bed, limbs heavy. Heart heavier. 

It was in his bedroom, right next to the window, so it was hard to miss. Hard to ignore. The dent stuck out compared to the rest of the space, and it drew attention, drew Donghyuck’s eyes. Always. 

Realistically, Donghyuck was aware it shouldn’t— it was just a dent after all. It was just there. Nothing profound. 

And yet. 

It wasn’t always there. 

Donghyuck met Him his first year of university. Initially, Donghyuck couldn’t figure Him out. But He liked the same music as Donghyuck and He liked the same food as Donghyuck and He liked Donghyuck.

They’d been together for awhile when it happened— a blur of accusations cultivated to prick at Donghyuck’s heart, crafted to sting like hell. It was a haze of His raising voice, of the bedroom seeming to close in on itself. 

He had snapped with fire in His eyes, turning on Donghyuck where he was sitting at his desk. He was suddenly all too close, and then the chair Donghyuck was sitting in was shoved sideways and Donghyuck was on the floor, chest heaving. 

The bottle He was holding was thrown to the floor too and it shattered somewhere near Donghyuck’s head, broken. 

They were broken. 

It was over so fast, and He was gone just as quickly. 

Donghyuck, all panicked, choked-up tears and shaking hands, managed to sit up just to fold in on himself. There was glass lying haphazardly around the desk, and the chair was lying on the hardwood where it had fallen, directly beneath the dent it had gouged into the wall in its descent. 

Donghyuck saw Him the next day. He apologized, swore for better days. And Donghyuck, lost, didn’t know what to do except let him back in.

They tried to move on. 

But Donghyuck couldn’t stop staring at the fucking dent in the wall. 

It was there every time He didn’t follow through with His care, His touch, His words, His promises. It was there every time He made Donghyuck cry. It was there the first time He hit Donghyuck in a screaming match. It was there every restless night. 

It was there when Donghyuck doubted Him, doubted how to continue. How to end. 

It was always there, serving as an ever-present reminder that its existence was the palpable mark of when His faults truly surfaced, when it all began to meld into Donghyuck’s life so fluidly that the younger could no longer distinguish it from his own. 

In hindsight, Donghyuck held on for too long. He tried to fix the mess. But eventually, they split. 

That was a mess too.

Now, Donghyuck is working on moving forward. 

Jaemin, Renjun, Jeno— they embrace him with open arms. The four of them were relatively close before He and Donghyuck met, but the sporadic group outings easily shift to daily plans, and Donghyuck learns to love them with all his heart. 

He mourns the loss of the time he could have dedicated to them, all the time he wordlessly handed over to Him instead, and tells them as much one evening in a downtown cafe, eyes glistening. 

Renjun shakes his head gently, Jeno reaches across the table for his hand, and Jaemin slides forward in the booth, hushing comfort into his hair. 

They tell him not to worry, that it’s okay, that he can’t hold it against himself. 

“You got hurt, Duckie,” Jaemin murmurs, pulling Donghyuck tighter to his chest. Donghyuck doesn’t know when he started crying.

Renjun layers his fingers on top of Jeno’s and they squeeze Donghyuck’s hand together. 

“You got hurt, but that doesn’t mean it won’t get better,” Jaemin says, voice firm and sincere. “Wounds don’t ever completely disappear. But they do heal.”

That night, Donghyuck moves a dresser in front of the dent in the wall. 

And then comes Mark. 

He falls in step with their group just as seamlessly as Donghyuck had. 

His passion is admirable, his humor insufferable, his laughter contagious, his smile infectious. Donghyuck likes his endearing-self from the start, and tries not to dwell on exactly how much. 

They laugh until their guts ache, smile until their cheeks hurt, dote on one another until the other is sick with affection (the last part rarely applies to Donghyuck). 

They can talk for hours or sit in silence. They simply fit together like they were meant to. 

And it’s  _ easy _ . It’s a sweet relief to Donghyuck, to fall into someone so effortlessly. 

They share several classes the following year, giving them all the more reason to spend time together under the pretense of studying. Their blessed friends are gracious in the way they don’t question it. 

They simply let shared glances and jabbing elbows be adequate enough torture (Lord knows they have too much romance shit to work out between themselves). 

And it goes like that. They become each other’s other half. 

One evening, they take a break from schoolwork to get some fresh air, eventually ending up at a lakeside near Donghyuck’s apartment, watching the sun set over sparkling water. 

“I don’t know about you, Hyuck,” Mark starts, squinting at the horizon, soft spoken words nearly lost in the sound of water lapping up on the rocky shore. 

He’s leaning back in the grass, the tips of his fingers brushing against Donghyuck’s left hand. Donghyuck hasn’t really stopped looking at him since they sat down. The wind ruffles his hair, he looks serene. 

Donghyuck loves him. 

The older pulls his eyes from the glistening water to meet Donghyuck’s gaze. His eyes are deep, holding nothing back and he’s breathtaking. So fucking beautiful. 

“... I can’t wait anymore,” Mark whispers, low and raw. 

Donghyuck smiles soft, and understands. With a whisper of wind, he leans forward, cups Mark’s cheek, and kisses him. 

Now, he only thinks about the dent in the wall sometimes. Just sometimes.

One night, he goes over to Mark’s apartment. Kicks his shoes off at the front door like always, stalks into the living room, and finds Mark watching a movie on the couch. 

“Hey, baby,” Mark says, grabbing the remote to turn the volume down. Donghyuck flops rather gracelessly into the space next to him. 

“Hi,” he sighs into Mark’s chest, eyes slipping shut. 

Mark changes his position, drawing Donghyuck closer and swinging the younger’s legs across his lap. 

“You okay?” he asks, knocking their heads together. 

It takes Donghyuck a moment. 

“Yeah. Just tired.” 

“Mm,” Mark hums. He kisses the crown of Donghyuck’s head. “I sorry.” 

Baby voice. Donghyuck smiles into Mark’s sweatshirt. 

“I’m thinking about moving out of my apartment,” he says some time later. 

“Really? Why’s that.” 

“Lots of reasons,” Donghyuck shrugs, shifting back so he can see Mark’s face. “First off, I fucking hate living alone.”

Mark snorts, knowing he’s too people oriented to not have a roommate. Donghyuck swats at his stomach and talks over the older’s dramatic whining. 

“Secondly, the fucking landlord, he’s—”

“— the worst—”

“— the  _ absolute _ worst.”

Mark chuckles, shaking his head. Donghyuck smiles quietly as he looks at him. He’s so pretty in the low light. 

“And it’s too far from university,” he continues, playing with one of Mark’s hoodie strings. “I want to walk to class instead of driving and I’ve already looked at places that are closer. Some offer less rent... It just makes sense.”

Mark makes a gentle noise of agreement.

Donghyuck is pretty sure he’s made up his mind. His thoughts wander to moving and all that involves... 

“Fuck,” he groans, “I hate moving. It’s—”

“— Hyuck, you could—”

Donghyuck glances over at Mark when he stops just as abruptly as he started. The older boy is sitting stock still, his mouth agape. 

After he swallows he says, hesitantly, “You could move in with me… if you want.” 

The color creeping onto his cheeks reveals the vulnerability in the question, and Donghyuck is at a loss for words. 

“You said it yourself,” Mark backtracks, in a bit of a rush, “You’d like to be closer to university and the rent would be cheaper here because we could share it and—” 

He pauses, throat clicking as he swallows again. With an air of contrasting calm, he reaches for Donghyuck’s hand and stops avoiding his eyes. 

“I know it’s only been a year— us. But... I’m ready if you are. We’re kind of together every night anyway. And it’s cliche as shit but I miss you when you’re not here, so. Only if you want. But you could. You… you can.”

Donghyuck’s throat is closing up and he feels that telltale sting in his nose, springing to his eyes. Because Mark is unbelievable. Mark loves with everything he has, with every touch, every intention, every word. Mark knows him and loves him, Mark pulled him apart and pieced him back together. 

He starts to nod, just as Mark tugs him forward so that his thighs frame the older’s hips, their eyes never straying from each other. 

“Move in with me,” Mark repeats, so softly, cupping Donghyuck’s cheeks. 

Donghyuck slides his hands to Mark’s shoulders and closes his eyes. 

“Please,” Mark whispers against his lips, and Donghyuck loves him, loves him. 

“Okay.” 

The kiss is a little messy but neither of them care. They part grinning like fucking idiots. Mark, unabashed in his excitement, wipes Donghyuck’s eyes and rambles in his ear about days to come.

Days later, Donghyuck stands in his empty bedroom. 

He’s looking at the rollers Renjun lent them for their project: painting the bedroom. After this, they’re done, already having moved everything Donghyuck didn’t want to sell into Mark’s apartment. 

Sighing, Donghyuck makes his way to the bathroom, where Mark is preparing a bucket of drywall mud in the sink. He’s sporting a hat today, along with a very concentrated expression on his face. Donghyuck thinks it’s adorable. 

He snakes his arms around Mark’s torso when he reaches him, tucks his chin over his shoulder to watch.

“Hey,” Mark greets distractedly, skimming the label on the lid before unscrewing it from the tub. 

Donghyuck smiles to himself and noses at the shell of Mark’s ear, just until he shivers. 

Stepping away, he leans his weight against the counter. “I’m going to head to Jun’s real quick and see if we can borrow some paintbrushes. I don’t want to go to the store but I also don’t wanna fuck up the trim with a roller.”

Mark agrees, then says, “You kick their asses if they haven’t confessed to each other yet, yeah?”

Ah, yes, their best friends. All three living in the same flat and all three absolutely, completely, undoubtedly in love with each other. And all three stubborn as hell, refusing to make a move. 

“Yeah, okay,” Donghuck laughs, and Mark, grinning, presses a kiss to his lips before he goes. 

He ends up staying at the boys’ place longer than intended. Jaemin likes hugs that he can’t necessarily get out of quickly, Jeno has a minor cooking incident in the kitchen, and Renjun is having an existential crisis over his semester art project. 

(“It’s great, Jun.”

“... Are you sure?”

“I never lie.”

“Wha— Yes you fucking do!”)

Donghyuck leaves after an hour visit, several paintbrushes in hand. 

“No new developments today, babe,” he calls as he closes the front door. “Still in their slow burn stage.”

Mark answers with a loud curse of disappointment. Donghyuck laughs and follows the sound to the bedroom, leaning against the doorway. 

“You want takeout?” Mark asks, crouched on the floor. He swipes at his nose with the back of his hand and twists to look at Donghyuck. “I’m hungry as fuck.”

“Sounds good.” 

“‘Kay,” Mark breathes, rising up off his haunches. “I’ll go order it.”

He kisses Donghyuck’s temple as he slides past him in the doorway, leaving the younger to smile in his wake. 

“Oh, Hyuck,” he adds, voice echoing from the kitchen, “I finished mudding! So we actually don’t have much left to do other than paint.” 

But Donghyuck has already seen it, has been staring at it since Mark left the room. 

The dent is gone. 

Heart stilling in his chest, he shuffles forward. The mud has dried by now, gray blending flawlessly into beige. The wall is… smooth. Untouched. 

And it’s nothing more than the physical reality aligning with the nonphysical. Donghyuck has long-since moved on from Him, and now the physical reminder of Him is gone too. 

He thinks of what Jaemin told him all that time ago: “Wounds don’t ever completely disappear. But they do heal.”

From mind, from memory, He won’t ever completely be erased. But Donghyuck is okay. And he has healed. And the dent in the wall is gone.

“Baby,” Mark calls from the kitchen, “do you want  kimchi-jjigae or bulgogi?”

Donghyuck blinks. And he leaves the room. 

A new tenant is set to move into the apartment within a week, he’s told in an email from his— ex landlord?— ex landlord.

“Do you want to go say goodbye, roomie?” Mark asks that night while he’s making dinner for the two of them, the younger sitting at the island, cramming for an exam he has in two days. 

Donghyuck shoots an unimpressed look at Mark’s back, displeased with the god awful nickname. He’s sure as hell not going to let that one stick. 

“No, I don’t need to say goodbye to the apartment, dumbass.”

Mark scoffs indignantly over the vegetables and Donghyuck laughs because he loves laughing, and especially because he loves teasing Mark. 

Mark… hair a ruffled mess, glasses askew on his nose, sweatshirt crinkled and definitely the same one he’s been wearing for the past three days. 

Donghyuck smiles. 

_ Wounds heal.  _

Mark is dancing in front of the stove— singing too— and he’s not really trying. It sounds horrible.

And Donghyuck loves him. 

_ Indeed they do.  _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :D drink water today!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/vancouverbby)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/rynwrites)


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